"I promise you."
A subconscious mumble left the boy's lips, which woke him up from his sleep. Through the slit of his half-closed eyes, he discovered his hand, pointing towards the ceiling. As if, reaching out for something—only to fail.
Retracting the hand, he rubbed his still-drowsy eyes but sensed something unusual. So, he gently touched his cheeks, only to find them moist with tears. This left him bewildered, also got rid of his drowsiness.
What was that voice?
Who was she?
What did I promise?
Why am I crying?
A series of questions popped up, making him momentarily confused. But answers didn't find him.
Unable to find answers to his inexplicable dream and unanswerable questions, he slowly rose from bed and stretched his numbed body. Drawing back the curtains and opening the window, the morning sunlight flooded his room, while the cheerful chirping of birds reminded him of the dawning of a new day. Inhaling the fresh, humid air, he felt alive like never before.
"It poured like crazy last night, didn't it? Almost went deaf from those thunderclaps," he muttered.
While the boy was enjoying the fresh breeze, a knock echoed from the door, followed by his mother's voice. "Aryan, are you awake?" she called, followed by more knocks.
"I'm awake, Mom. Come in." Aryan responded.
Slowly, a lovely middle-aged woman in a cooking apron over her sari stepped into the room, her tired voice teasing him. "Finally decided to wake up, huh? Didn't you ask me to wake you up early? Why've you been sleeping like a log?"
Aryan stretched, a wide yawn escaping him. "Really? Guess I couldn't sleep properly with all those thunderclaps last night."
His mother frowned, her brow furrowing. "Thunderclaps? What thunderclaps?"
Aryan paused, his own confusion deepening. Were they just my imagination? The thought flickered, then he quickly pushed it aside. "Wait, Mom, what time is it?"
"It's already ten o'clock," she sighed and said, "Alright, go get yourself ready. I'll warm up the food."
"I'll be ready in seconds," Aryan rushed towards the washroom with excitement, without even grabbing the towel.
The event he had been eagerly awaiting was none other than the renowned "Awakening Ceremony". On this day, young bloods like him would visit the branch headquarters of the Elemental Association to awaken their elemental affinities.
Though the ceremony took place every year, it never lost its charm. People came not just out of duty, but with genuine eagerness—parents, elders, even those whose time had long passed. To witness someone's first spark… It was also a reminder of their own beginnings.
As the shower's gentle spray washed away the last traces of sleep, Aryan's thoughts began to wander, drifting back to a distant autumn afternoon. It was the very day he was introduced to the world of Elementalists.
It was an autumn afternoon by the Dalisari riverbank. The sky was open and blue, with streaks of cotton clouds floating lazily overhead. Gentle breeze carried the scent of water and kashful, those tall white flowers that danced like whispers in the fields. A quiet warmth clung to the air — not the heat of summer, but something lighter, as if the earth itself was stretching after a long sleep.
A checkered cloth lay spread beneath the shade of a Poinciana tree, where a little boy, no older than eight, sat beside his mother. In his small hands was a slice of starfruit—big, juicy, and bright green. His face scrunched like a crumpled sheet every time he took a bite, eyes watering slightly from the sharp tang. But he kept going, nibbling with determination, pausing only to squint at his mother with an expression that begged for rescue.
She tried not to laugh and leaned back on her elbows, watching the little drama unfold.
Aryan finally held the half-eaten slice at arm's length. "It's too sour!" he said with a grimace, lips puckered.
"You've almost finished," she said calmly, plucking a small seed from another slice. "If you eat all of it, I'll show you magic."
As if his sweet tooth vanished, Aryan finished the whole slice in seconds and looked up, blinking, juice still on his chin. "Magic?"
Mother laughed softly and stood, brushing crumbs from her sari. "Come."
Curious and excited, Aryan grabbed her hand and followed her a few steps away, where a tiny sapling peeked through the grass — small, no taller than his pinky. It looked fragile, barely alive, its leaves trembling in the breeze.
His mother knelt down, placed a hand gently near the roots, and closed her eyes.
A soft green glow shimmered from her palm — faint, like sunlight filtering through leaves. The glow slipped into the soil.
And the sapling stirred.
Slowly, its stem grew taller, leaves unfurled, and small buds bloomed into white and purple flowers.
Aryan gasped. "Ma....Magic! Ma, you are a magician! You made the tree grow!"
She turned, her face warm with laughter. "It was always meant to. I only reminded it how."
He dropped beside her, eyes still on the flowers. "How did you do that, mom? Can you teach me?"
"Ofcourse, I will," his mother said, her voice filled with quiet confidence. "Before that, you have to understand what it is you saw. This isn't some magic trick you read in the story book, neither am I a magician. What I am, is called an Elementalist."
"Ele..mentalis?", Aryan mumbled.
"Yes, Elementalist", mom confirmed. "Someone who can control an element of nature, like water, fire, air."
"Mom..mom.. so I can do that too?"
She looked out over the river, the kashful swaying around them. A thoughtful expression crossed her face.
"First, let me tell you the story of Advan."
"Advan?" Aryan tilted his head. "Who's that?"
"A man from a long, long time ago. The very first Elementalist."
Aryan's eyes widened. "The first one ever?"
"The very first. Before him, no human could do what I just did. No one could command the elements." She plucked a kashful flower, twirling it. "When Advan was about your age—young, curious, always getting into trouble—"
"I don't get into trouble!" Aryan protested, puffing up his chest.
His mother laughed, ruffling his hair. "I know, I know. You're a good boy. Not like Advan—that boy was mischievous. But he was also incredibly curious. Always asking 'why,' always poking at things he shouldn't." Her eyes softened. "It was in his blood, I think. That restlessness."
Aryan settled back down, intrigued. "What did he do?"
"One day, his father came back from a hunt with something strange. A beast—small, weak-looking, but it could do the impossible." She paused for effect. "It could breathe fire. Real fire, like a little sun coming from its mouth."
"Whoa..."
"Advan couldn't stop thinking about it. How could it do that? Why? He had to know." She made a cutting motion with her hand. "So he did what any curious boy with no sense would do—he cut the creature open to find out."
Aryan leaned forward, completely absorbed.
"He compared it to normal animals, piece by piece, looking for what made it special. And he found something." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "An organ unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Filled with a mysterious energy."
"What kind of energy?"
"He didn't know. Spent weeks studying it, trying to understand it, trying to make it work for him. But it wouldn't listen. Wouldn't respond." She met his eyes. "So Advan did something incredibly stupid... and incredibly brave."
"What?" Aryan whispered back.
"He injected that energy into his own body."
Aryan gasped. "Did he die?"
"Almost." She touched his forehead gently, as if checking for fever. "Burned with fever for three weeks. Everyone thought they'd lost him. But when the fever finally broke..." She snapped her fingers. "Everything changed."
"What changed?"
"He could feel the fire around him. Not just feel it—he could call to it. Command it." Another snap. "Make it appear from nothing, right in his hand."
"From nothing?" Aryan's jaw dropped.
"From thin air. Wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Fire that answered only to him." She smiled at his amazed expression. "That's when Advan became the first Elementalist. The first human who could conjure and command the elements."
Aryan stared at the flowers his mother had just grown. "So... that's what you did? Conjured the tree?"
"Not quite. I can't create life from nothing—that's beyond any Elementalist. But I can command the wood element, make it listen to me." She gestured to the sapling. "That little tree was already there, just sleeping. I woke it up, helped it remember how to grow. Wood obeys me because we share something special."
"What?"
"An affinity. A connection." She tapped his chest lightly. "Everyone is born tied to one element. Fire, Water, Wood, Earth, Metal—some people even get rare ones like Lightning or Darkness. That tie is your affinity, and somewhere inside you"—she poked his chest—"there's an element waiting."
"Which one do I have?"
"I don't know yet, beta." Her smile turned playful. "Could be anything. I have Wood. Your father commands Wind. Our parents all had completely different elements."
"How do I find out?"
"The Awakening Ceremony. When you turn sixteen, you'll go to the Elemental Association, and they'll help you discover which element chose you."
Aryan's face fell. "Sixteen? That's forever..."
"Eight more years," she agreed, pulling him close. "I know. But there's a very important reason you have to wait."
"Why?"
Her expression turned serious. "Because conjuring elements is dangerous, Aryan. If you try to call fire before your body is ready, it won't just burn your enemies." She held his gaze. "It'll burn you from the inside out. The power needs a vessel strong enough to hold it."
She poked his belly suddenly, making him giggle despite the serious talk.
"So you'll need to train. Every day, you'll practice, make your body stronger. Build the foundation you need. And when your awakening finally comes..."
"I'll conjure fire!" Aryan declared, punching the air.
"Maybe fire. Maybe water. Maybe light." She laughed. "We won't know until then. But yes—you'll call your element from nothing, command it to follow your will, shape it however you imagine." She touched her forehead. "That's what it means to be an Elementalist."
"I'll train every day," Aryan said, his small face set with determination. "I promise."
"I know you will." Her voice was soft. They sat quietly, the breeze rustling around them, the river flowing slow and calm.
The little sapling stood taller now, its blossoms open to the sky.
And for a moment, it almost seemed to hum.
Time is a restless musafir. It awaits for none, and Aryan wanted it to wait for him even less. Only by growing bigger and stronger could the sapling of his Elementalist dream bear fruit. So, time didn't just develop his body; it also sharpened his ambition.
Since his earliest memories, the dream had been embedded within him, fueled by the story of Advan and the magic his mother had shown him. To achieve this, he had diligently cultivated a body-enhancement method called "Vajrasana Body." He had no idea where his father had obtained it, but he practiced it with every fiber of his being and every ounce of his will. This method focused on solidifying the five elemental compositions within his body, preventing an imbalance caused by an excessive increase in any particular element—a principle that perfectly suited Aryan's intuitive understanding.
Though practicing it was initially arduous and often painful, he persevered. Yet, his entire world shattered when his efforts yielded a startling result: a bulky and utterly unappealing physique in the middle stage of the art. Even he was disgusted by his disproportionate figure, characterized by a small head atop a massive body. It nearly drove him to abandon the path of an Elementalist entirely.
He vividly remembered the day he wept before his mother.
"I want my opponents to fear my strength... not my appearance, Mom. Father gave me this weird body-tempering method, and look at what it has done to me," he cried, his voice thick with tears.
Hearing his heart-wrenching cry, his mother couldn't control herself anymore. She brandished her weapon of mass destruction, her broom, and stormed off to confront his father, demanding an explanation.
"Aryan, don't be sad. You know dad loves you. I would never choose something that would harm you. Everything will return to normal as you reach the final stages of the Vajrasana Body," his defeated father assured him with a smile, though his pity-filled eyes betrayed his words. It was evident that he, too, knew nothing about this body-tempering method. Despite the lingering air of suspicion, the naive and innocent Aryan decided to continue practicing it.
Thankfully, his father's words rang true. After enduring years of bitter persistence and the trials of body enhancement, Aryan had finally reached the final stage of the Vajrasana Body. His physique could not be more perfect. As those bulky muscles contracted, his body transformed into an impeccable figure with heightened muscle density. At first glance, anyone would take him for an ordinary teenager, utterly unaware of the dormant power within.
"Muscle Power!" he thought with a grin. All that was left was awakening the elemental affinity.
And finally, the long-awaited day had arrived! Today was the day when he, along with his peers, would awaken their elemental affinities. His excitement knew no bounds, enough to completely eclipse the memory of that weird dream.